


Poking out of a Comatose State

by MountainMew



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-05 20:18:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5388893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MountainMew/pseuds/MountainMew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>we're estraaaaaaaaaaaanged</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poking out of a Comatose State

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Liza0111](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liza0111/gifts).



> I hate Aldnoah.Zero. I hate Inaho. I hate Slaine. I hate Liza. I hate that Liza even suggested the idea I write an alien slaine/inaho fic in light of my starmyu fic.  
> Despite the fact an alien fic would be more contextually fitting for A.Z, as I’ve said in the past I am no one-trick pony.  
> I wanted to lay in the snow. So that’s what I wrote about. I was actually inspired by a photo I took several years ago. It was a photo I took with my phone, of hot cocoa in the snow. It looks like magic, almost unreal. That, and very floaty music, is how I came up with this.

  The only prop decorating this dreadfully drab room is a soft colored rose, devoid of all thorns. I love the way it stands out, like a splatter of paint from a disastrous art project. Even this prettied up, it pains me to touch. I only observe it from afar, day in and day out, forgetting soon enough what time even is.  
  How many days are passing me by? Has it been years? A century? A week? I don’t think about those things anymore, only about how beautiful the flower looks as it droops to the cold, hard ground.  
  
  I feel like an alien, more so than I ever thought I would. When I bite away at my finger tips, it still comes out red, and yet it never feels the same. I keep digging, deeper and deeper into my own skin.  
  How is it he feels more human than I do? I can’t even close my eyes when we’re in the same room. He eats away at the scenery without ever saying a word; so quiet and utterly unremarkable in every way and yet he never fails to be lit under a bright spotlight. I can’t stand the sight of his decisively smug face, but the solitude is equally unbearable. I admit, it’s better this way, but I won’t say it out loud.  
  At times, though I can’t begin to understand why, I find myself saying I miss home, when I look to the stars in the sky. Is it because it’s where my Princess is? Or because I grew up there? _Breathe in_ , I think, and admit that maybe I was never really human to begin with. If even that much is a lie, then... Then what? Suddenly, my mind is entirely blank, and I feel my body falling to sleep again; so frequently I find myself falling asleep, these days.  
  
  He comes and goes, like an autumn leaf in the wind, I never really know what he’ll do next. I find it’s hard to sleep at night aware that Inaho knows where I sleep, which almost makes me feel more pitiful than if I were simply dead.  
  I keep my eyes open, for hours and hours pretending the strain will save me from the imaginary monster under my bed. When I finally wake up, it’s more a depressing blessing. At least, I think, my Princess would smile. Her smile, warmly safe and overtaking in my mind, pushes me forward.  
  
  “Pretty, isn’t it” He says.  
  His sudden presence startles me. I turn my head slowly from the ground, and sigh into myself. If I had a choice, I simply wouldn’t move. But that’s my retribution; I have no concept of freedom and, quite frankly, never have. And I don’t know if he has or hasn’t but it’s hard to imagine anyone hasn’t when it’s all you know.  
  He sits himself down next to me and I turn around slow as a ferris wheel would. Savoring a moment where there’s nothing burdening my beating heart at all, where we can be together silently, without much thought to it at all.  
   I reach my hand out to touch his one eye, dig my finger tips deep into its empty socket. I didn’t know what it was he was looking to, or why he was looking at it, or how it was pretty at all. I lost myself in infatuation for the dark hole before me.  
  “Yeah, it is.”  
  
  I clasp my hands around his. “Cold,” he says.  
  “Your hands are cold, too...” I argue meekly. I didn’t actually know what else to say, only what actions to take.  
  His breath is absolutely overbearing; I hadn’t really noticed until our faces were so close. I rest my forehead against his, trying to ignore how the scent brings tears to my eyes, and close them slowly.  
  Hours pass us by in silence. What feels like wasted time overflows from my heart with utmost importance.  
  “Thank you,” I say.    
  “For what?” Why did I say that, anyway?  
  “If you can’t figure that much out, then I take it back.” I fall back onto the frigid floor, taking in the scent of a spoiled moment. “...Is it snowing, yet?”  
  
  I used to have dreams that I would be the one to show my Princess all the colors of the seasons. In particular, I always wanted to show her the cold snow; to warm her hands and make her warm drinks in an evening just for us. In hindsight, those feelings were so selfish, but even now I want to be the one she sees her first snow fall with.  
  What does it mean to be human? I bury my face deeper and deeper into the frost for some semblance of an answer. It’s barren, as expected, but I still hold out hope for something to answer.  
  When I feel my skin sting, and crack I start to wonder if such simple concepts are all it takes. If that’s why we’re both humans, and not monsters or aliens. Yet, through the mirror, it doesn’t feel the same at all; I don’t understand at all. Who I am, or why I’m here; I don’t understand at all.  
  
  He reaches out a hand to me when I flip my body over, his hand dressed well in mittens and a coat. He looks so childish, but I take it none the less.  
  “Did you find what you were looking for?” he says, his voice muffled under his scarf.  
  I smile so genuinely bright I think even he is taken aback.  
  “Not at all.”  
  
  I wonder, as we walk back, if I turn around, will I see you? I clutch his hand just a little bit tighter, just a little bit. It’s hard to say if the silence is warming or frightening, it’s hard to say what anything is at all between the two of us.  
  It’s so simple, so simple and wonderful to feel the winter breeze burning against my face. Times like these, I feel so lost in the moment, so distracted by nothing at all. I stop, abruptly, and take one deep breath in.  
  “Inaho, do you like hot chocolate?”  
  “Not really.”  
  “It’s warm, and beautiful. When the snowflakes fall into your cup, it sparkles and shines like a galaxy up in space. But it’s more inviting, more cozy than that.”  
  He’s not really a talkative guy, and that’s the only reason I can fill the air with these embarrassing thoughts.  
  “I kind of miss it, up there, y’know? But I loved it here, too. The soft blankets of snow, the bitter winter breezes, the distant feeling of stars in the sky...”  
  My mind trails off into all the earthly, humanly even, feelings I’ve forgotten.  
  “Inaho, I...” My face is flushed. Is it really so cold that I find myself growing this delirious?  
  “I love you, too.”  
  “Okay,” He says. Nothing more, nothing less, it’s just like him. Relieving. I continue facing forward, because if this is all just a dream I’d rather it last. And, in any case, looking at your face would just ruin the moment again, so it’s better this way.  
  Softly, light snowflakes adorn our hair.  
  
  My home is as cold as I left it. Returning home, it was the first moment I realized there wasn’t a fire place waiting for me, that there never would be. That I left this house frozen and returned just as frostbitten as leaving.  
  I laid back on the floor, again, contemplating never getting up, again. He had these dulled over eyes, starring down at me without any critique, rhyme or reason. It’s my nothing and everything at the same time.  
  I want to scream so loudly it pierces through everyone’s ears. I want to find some kind of release from this restrained life.  
  But there’s nothing, and there will always be nothing.  
  
  My blood stains the holly draping through the icy shut window. My voice is empty, scratching at my throat and longing to say something, anything, to make this pain beating in my head stop.  
_Please--_  
_Don’t--_  
_Forget--_  
  It’s just as it should be. Everything feels warm, placed properly in a room where nothing ever really belongs. I rest my hand against the bitter window, painting it like me. You’ll always be just this far out of reach from my finger tips. It’s a dreadful thought, a truly painful burning passion blooming in my heart.  
  I want to devour this presence of you from my heart. But it would never be meant to be, right?   
  “I...” So soon as I turn around, I realize you’re already long gone. Our life together would always be this way, wouldn’t it? That’s what I thought back then.  
  I look back to the holly drawn painting on the window, of I and now you as well. Leaning against the chilling glass, I close my eyes and think of fonder times. Of my Princess, of her smile, and of yours as well.  
  _Don’t forget about me_ , I think. But to who I was talking to, I can’t say.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> As with FFX, I want to be very clear I don't /actually/ hate aldnoah at all. Actually, at times I worry I'm too kind to Aldnoah. It was fun, I had a good time.  
> Leave a comment! Tell me........ Do you like hot chocolate? Or tea, maybe? I think my preference is obvious.
> 
> Here's the photo, by the way: https://pbs.twimg.com/media/CWAFWuqWEAAJt8t.png:large


End file.
